The Floor is my Friend
by LadyPorpoise
Summary: Legolas hates beds. There is no cause or reason why: he just does. He says he doesn't like the feeling of sinking, but beyond that, there is no reason for such avoidance of something that should provide comfort and relief. The elf prefers being on the floor like he was on the road all the time. This quirk does bring light during the darkest times to his family, however.


_A/N My Legolas is different than most portrayals I think-at least what I have read in the archive so far. I honestly don't know why I thought to give him this unique trait, other than to be funny. It enhanced the effect of him seeming very odd from another person's perspective. It may not make much sense but...Legolas sometimes doesn't make sense. :P_

 _Hope you enjoy. :)_

* * *

This was something that never happened before.

So why was it happening now?

Thranduil and his queen were proud to say that they had _plenty_ of experience at being parents, having had two sons before having their greenleaf. They understood the quirks of children, the headaches of adolescence, and took immense pleasure in being parents despite Thôndir and Galadhion being grown up.

But those stages were not the worst of growing up…well, save second to adolescence perhaps: infanthood, could be a nightmare.

And Legolas has given his parents the worst out of three run-throughs of this stage.

Oh, the baby was adorable, and everyone loved him to death, but at times, it made Thranduil wonder why he had not named this child to have some sort of warning about the potential trouble Legolas _intentionally_ caused. Maybe he was not doing it intentionally, but it sure felt like it.

Or perhaps Thranduil was being sleep deprived, because every, single, night, Legolas would be happily cooing in either his or the queen's arms, looking _perfectly_ innocent and _fine_ , and a few moments after Thranduil and Eregnis would go to bed, Legolas would scream from the crib, initially giving the adults heart attacks.

Now after the fiftieth episode in a single night…well, it was not a novelty anymore, especially the _face_ Legolas was giving his father: so innocent and sweet and totally not looking like he was screaming bloody murder just a few seconds ago.

"I don't understand," Eregnis said as she rocked her baby in her arms-completely unnecessary, but the bloodshot eyes she now possessed made it seem worse than it actually was. "There is _nothing_ that could be wrong. He is perfectly healthy-"

Thranduil held his hand over his eyes. "Not used to sleeping alone?" He asked wearily and stared at Legolas with a bit of irritation.

Legolas giggled, happy with the attention.

"But he is fine when left alone during the day." Eregnis argued, "Scared of the night?"

"We do not put him in the bed during the day though," Thranduil shook his head. "And he is not scared of the night. He loves it, actually."

Eregnis looked down at her youngest and Legolas sing-songed some gibberish. "One more night with us, then we put him in the crib and try to ignore the screaming. The attention we give him only encourages it."

Thranduil groaned and laid down flat again. "Fine by me." There was still so much work to be done, to repair the damage the Last Alliance did to their people. Was _one_ full night of sleep too much to ask for?

The new king felt the bed shift as Eregnis laid down after setting their son on the space between them. Thranduil sighed and quiet descended…

Then Legolas screamed again.

Thranduil pulled the child to sit on his chest and then the parents _waited_. Once more, a second after being removed from the mattress, Legolas became content again, and he put a hand on Thranduil's nose. "Ahhhhh!" the babe cooed.

Thranduil and Eregnis stared at each other with confusion, then looked at the space Legolas just occupied. With an unspoken idea, Thranduil sat up and placed Legolas next to him, but not laying down. Legolas was fine both standing and sitting on the soft surface. But when he was on his back or sides, the babe started to whimper, and that was when Thranduil pulled Legolas back to him again, and then everything was fine.

"…He cannot be hurting. He is healthy." Eregnis said lowly.

"I want to try something tomorrow night," Thranduil said in a low voice, stroking the little head with his hand. "But let us get through tonight with Legolas on me."

Eregnis could see Legolas already falling asleep against his sire, and then she nodded.

They got through the night without too much trouble, although a few times Legolas managed to worm himself onto the mattress, and the parents had to pick him up before he started getting upset again.

The next evening, Thranduil himself tore the crib's mattress and removed a fair amount of stuffing from it until there was nearly nothing left in it. When the king and queen set Legolas on the less soft surface, the babe _instantly_ fell asleep.

Thranduil and Eregnis watched in astonishment and relief.

"I never thought that would work," the king admitted in a whisper.

"Let us hope he grows out of this," Eregnis said in turn.

* * *

 _A few years later…_

Thranduil stood dumbfounded as he looked at Legolas laying on the floor _next_ to the bed. The elfling was awake as he heard his father approach. The elfling as always appeared innocent, but this time he seemed a bit grumpy.

"When you said you were going to bed, I thought you were going to be _in_ it," Thranduil commented.

All the sheets and covers were on the floor instead of on the object where people were supposed to sleep on.

Legolas crossed his arms over his chest. "I am in bed."

"The floor is your bed?"

"Yes."

Thranduil had confusion written all over his face. He and Eregnis hoped Legolas would have grown out of this, but apparently not. He sighed, "Why do you hate beds so much, little one?"

Little-Legolas thought about it and he bit his lip and made the customary "uhmmm" sound when little ones were thinking. In the end, he shrugged. "I don't know."

"Can you isolate specific reasons why?" Thranduil prodded a bit more.

Legolas began to think again. "I don't like the feeling of sinking. Not secure," he answered finally.

Thranduil blinked. Fair enough…but even when there was nothing save a thin layer of cotton or straw stuffed into the casing, Legolas _still_ held the inanimate thing in contempt. "Are there more reasons?"

Legolas shook his head. "Nope: I just don' like beds."

Thranduil continued to stare at his child with some amount of disbelief. How could anyone not want to be in a nice, soft, warm, cocoon of comfort? As far as he was aware Legolas never had any traumatic experience with it. It seemed to be a matter of very extreme preference. "I want you to try and get used to it somewhat. It might do you well someday."

Legolas dragged out a long exhale, and unworming himself from his pile he hugged his sire goodnight.

* * *

 _Some more years later…_

The brothers glanced around the dome-shaped space within the great cave that would be their new quarters. The king had ordered a retreat to the north, as the miasma in the forest continued to get worse. It was a precaution, but the princes could see that the efforts in pushing back the evil were not working, and thus the precaution was a wise move.

Still, it hurt them to see their home breaking down.

"Here is your spot, Legolas," Thôndir said as he motioned to a small alcove. A ray of moonlight shone through an opening in the ceiling.

The youngest prince approached the spot but stopped abruptly seeing the scary sack of feathers. This was a joke, it had to be. Legolas slowly turned to look at his brothers and found them both fighting a grin that was trying to get on their faces. He had to take joy seeing Galadhion so amused though: nothing ever made him smile much ever since he was tormented by the enemy.

"Try it out," Thôndir nudged with his words in a light tone.

Legolas made a face before he approached his nemesis. Standing before the sack, he outstretched a hand and with his index finger, poked it.

A long silence followed.

"No," the youngest said with certainty, and holding onto his thin pad and blankets, agilely jumped to the branch above the offending object.

The two older elves chuckled. "It is not going to eat you in your sleep, you know," Thôndir said aloud.

"How do you know?" Legolas shot back with mock insult.

"For one, it literally has nothing in it, and second of all: how do you know it will eat you? You never sleep in those things, _ever_."

Legolas shot one of his charming smiles. "That is the advantage I have, dear brother. I can sleep wherever without trouble, and I honor the old days by having little luxury to enjoy."

Thôndir sighed in fake-exasperation. "I am sure the Avari have their own mattresses too, and even further back, our race was smart enough back then to not lay completely on the ground with no covering."

"That is why I have this," Legolas held his leather mat over the side of the branch. "I am prepared to sleep on this wherever I am, and in all circumstances."

Thôndir lifted a brow. "Even when you are injured?"

"Yes, even when I am injured."

* * *

 _Some even more time later…_

"You can't make me! I refuse to!"

"You can be so pathetic at times, Legolas, you know that?"

Lhossiel heard her betrothed's protesting voice as well as the crown prince's annoyed one. The healer prepared herself for the sight she was sure to see soon. She stood near the archway, and she chortled under her breath while holding her head in her hand.

Thôndir was dragging his brother by the wrists, while Orod-Legolas' wingman and best friend-carried a boulder that for some strange reason was tied to the youngest prince's ankle.

Lhossiel blinked in surprise. This was certainly new. "What happened?"

"My love, don't make me stay in one place for two weeks!" Legolas begged as he allowed himself to look like an idiot to everyone who saw it.

"Two broken legs," Thôndir grunted as he adjusted his grip. "And suspect a pelvic fracture, but clearly the pain is not bothering him, since he had the gall to tie a _rock_ to his feet. How he even managed to do it so fast or where he got the cord from is beyond me."

"The knot is one of his own too," Orod spoke up weakly. "Time studying the ways of our eastern kin serves him too well."

"I am right here," Legolas interrupted, but his statement was ignored.

"And you did not think about cutting it with a knife?" Lhossiel asked.

"He threatened to kick me if I did," Orod answered with a frown.

The healer shook her head and stared at Legolas.

"Please no," the prince begged again.

"I have to, and you cannot do anything about it, or I will restrain you."

Legolas made a face and he let his head hang limply to show his defiance.

Over the course of a few hours, Legolas' legs were braced, and he laid in one of the ward's beds without a fight or complaint. It was even one of the beds that were made especially for him. He made no comment when he was told that he had to stay there for a couple weeks, or until the bones knitted together.

Thôndir had left, and Lhossiel and Orod remained to make sure their dear companion did not do anything stupid. Legolas complied, but when both of the sentries left the room for a few minutes, they found him on the floor, finally asleep.

No one had the heart to wake him.

"Are you sure you want to marry him?" Orod asked as stood before his friend's sleeping form.

Lhossiel was grinning softly. "Of course I do, for all the pain and misery he causes us."

"Could not ask for a better friend either." The silvan said in turn.

* * *

 _Zzzzzzz…_

Thranduil sat in the garden with his family, eyes half open as he tried to stay awake. He felt tired very often. Ever since the plague on Greenwood happened, he had been constantly drained of his reserves just to keep the northern part of it mostly pure from infestation. He had changed much since that time, too…and it made him afraid if he was honest.

His humor was twisted, his mind felt dark because he was constantly exposed to darkness…all the king wanted was the time of his youth to come back.

Perhaps a few moments of the present could be like that, as Eregnis nudged him and pointed to Legolas. Their greenleaf was sitting with legs crossed, eyes open and glazed. Thôndir and Galadhion were smirking at this.

Thranduil too let a small grin grace his features. He lifted a hand, and ever so gently, nudged Legolas in the arm.

The prince fell over and did not wake.

"He claims he sleeps fine on the ground or in rough places, but he never is fully rested." Eregnis shook her head with low chuckles.

"He finally learned to tough it out when he has to stay in the healer's ward at least," Thôndir said.

Thranduil looked at Galadhion and saw his second eldest watching his younger brother fondly. The king too glanced at Legolas: the young elf only moved to get more comfortable on the ground before letting out a content sigh.

"It is something that makes him special," the ancient elf said-voice lower and richer to reflect his age and experience of living in this troubled world. "And we love him for those oddities."


End file.
